Lo Carmen: 0:00

Despite their very best efforts, the scientific community has concluded that time travel is just not possible, and time can only move in one direction. Irreversible phenomena. You can't unsmash a plate... or uncook an egg. You can't un-die. But there are many things that seem to exist outside the realms of the realistic or the possible. Things that just happen. And music is often the catalyst or the bridge that connects us with these liminal spaces that stretch or violate the laws of what we know to be true. Music appears to have the ability to reconnect us with moments from our past, and sometimes with people. Music can act as a direct line to our old selves, whether it's a melody, a note, a rhythm, a pattern, or a lyric that transports us. When our minds are free to wander, which occurs when we're doing something that keeps us busy, repetitive tasks that don't take up a lot of mental space, like... washing dishes or walking, we're more likely to experience involuntary memories. Often when we find ourselves lost in a memory, we're not even sure what that trigger was. Rather than replaying scenes in chronological order, memories are retrieved as little disconnected snapshots. The brain stores memories in the hippocampus, A small, slimy, seahorse-shaped filing cabinet, no bigger than five centimetres long, that records, stores and tags our feelings, sensations and perceptions as they occur, encoding sensory details together that then serve as cues that trigger memories. Music awakens and stimulates mental pathways that nothing else can touch, and that sometimes can't be explained, There appears to be an avalanche of strange connections. We're going to get deeper into this and let our minds wander through memory, philosophy, odd connections, music, and dying. In this episode, I'm talking with drummer Jim White, as well as being one of the most thrilling multi-dimensional and prolific musicians in the world today. He's an old friend of mine and one of my favorite people to talk to. When we meet up, Jim's in the middle of a tour. It's the morning after he's played the night before and he'll be playing again that evening. This is where you can find Jim most of the time, in this transitory space between moving on getting ready and creating the music that will take his audience places that they perhaps didn't expect to go. Maybe accidental time travelling. Jim tends to play music that stirs strong emotions in people. I'm going to drop you into a conversation where Jim and I are talking about whether he should mention this kind of surreal experience that he had a long time ago while he was performing with his band, The Dirty Three, As he does the press for his new solo album, All Hits Memories, because the first single of this album, Names Make the Name, was partly inspired by this experience. You might hear George, Jim's bandmate in the background on the phone and trucks passing and birds twittering. That's just the reality of where we were.

Jim White: 4:00

I mean, I find it interesting.

Lo Carmen: 4:04

Do you want a donut?

Jim White: 4:05

No. There I am, like... I've just never said anything to anyone for 30, 40 years.

Lo Carmen: 4:12

Yeah

Jim White: 4:12

You know, really like, like really deliberate, like, you know.

Lo Carmen: 4:15

Yeah.

Jim White: 4:15

You know, yeah, you know what Imean?

Lo Carmen: 4:18

I do.

Jim White: 4:18

Like, especially publicly. I mean, I can talk, I know I can talk better personally now too than I used to, but even publicly, like, and then all of a sudden I'm like talking about dead people, like, you know, talking about, what am I trying to say?

Lo Carmen: 4:31

So Jim mentioned in this newspaper interview that he had a dead friend. He used to appear in front of him on stage when he'd play a certain song. He just kind of casually dropped this into the conversation and then they move on to other topics. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. So that's one of the reasons that I reached out to Jim to see if he'd talk with me for this episode.

Jim White: 4:58

Oh, yeah, and I said it, yeah, and I never told anyone. And I was like, I fell under pressure to say something in this interview. Oh, no. And I said, I've never told anyone before.

Lo Carmen: 5:06

And then suddenly you've told the world.

Jim White: 5:08

And then I said it, and then, yeah, and then I'm sort of surprised because, you know, you were like, what's going on with that? And then some people came up to me and were like, you know, I didn't know anyone who read the paper anymore. Anyway, well, the story is, I'm telling you the story. This friend of mine died. And then... Well, he used to play this song.

Lo Carmen: 5:34

Did the song have anything to do with your friend?

Jim White: 5:37

No. And she disappeared in front of the drums, you know. Kind of just in the air a little bit. I don't think it was. I don't know where she was exactly. She was just there. Kind of, you know, not always, but quite often.

Lo Carmen: 6:07

Like facing you?

Jim White: 6:09

Yeah, facing me. Yeah. You know, not... Not weird. Not bad or anything. Not weird. No, not weird at all. Just like kind of... But, you know, it was sad. You know, I used to feel sad sometimes. because it felt emotional, but not that bad or anything. You know, and then, like, even my bandmates, you know, Warren and Mika, who I'm very close with and everything, I never told them. I never mentioned anybody.

Lo Carmen: 6:35

So did you make a decision not to talk about it, or did it just feel private? It

Jim White: 6:40

just felt private. You know, it made me feel like I didn't need anyone's opinion on it. I didn't want anyone's opinion on it. I'd rather just have it. And then, you know, it just came... You know, and I always forget. It's kind of you always forget. And then it's like, oh, you know. And kind of, you know, you feel, you know, music's emotional anyway. And, you know. And then after a while I started wondering whether I was kind of milking it. You know what I mean? Mm-hmm. And then after that it just kind of dissipated. It came less often, I don't think, than some point. Do you feel like you made a kind of mental decision to not– Let it No, I think I made a mental decision not to hang on to it. Don't ask me how that works.

Lo Carmen: 7:26

Yeah, right. Just a mysterious happening.

Jim White: 7:31

I'd be hard-pressed to say how long it was for, whether it was for months or maybe a few months or something. I'm not really sure.

Lo Carmen: 7:45

If any music was going to conjure... someone, I can imagine would be Dirty Three Music.

Jim White: 7:52

Yeah, but once again, I mean, I don't think she was, you know, I don't think she was really there or anything.

Lo Carmen: 7:57

Yeah.

Jim White: 7:58

You know? Yeah. But, you know.

Lo Carmen: 7:59

Now, like I said, the Dirty Three do play very moving, powerful music that can excite very intense responses from their audiences. Just to give a taster of the journey that one of their songs might take you on to those that are unfamiliar... I've spliced together a couple of sections from a live performance of a beloved 11-minute Dirty Three song called Sue's Last Ride. I do think that there's some kind of weird spatial connections that go on. I

Jim White: 8:55

don't know about, like I say, I don't have any, you know, I don't have, like I'm saying all the things, like, you know, things appearing and, you know, I don't actually have any relationship to that stuff.

Lo Carmen: 9:04

No, I've never heard you talk like that in, what, 30 years of friendship.

Jim White: 9:09

Yeah, I don't have any interest in, you know, You're not a conspiracy UFO guy? No. Music is like, you know...

Lo Carmen: 9:20

Music somehow connects people to strange things that are impossible to explain.

Jim White: 9:28

Well, I mean, it activates some part of the brain and, you know, feelings and stuff. But, yeah, I really don't have any... I mean, you know... Yeah, I don't express any interest in...

Lo Carmen: 9:43

Spooky shit.

Jim White: 9:47

I don't have any... I just don't feel like that, you know. I don't believe in anything like that.

Lo Carmen: 10:03

Stravinsky said, if music appears to express something... This is only an illusion and not a reality. Brahms described the act of composing music as putting him in a semi-trance-like state, saying, I immediately feel vibrations that thrill my whole being. These are the spirit illuminating the soul power within, and in this exalted state, I see clearly what is obscure in my ordinary moods. Beethoven, Puccini, Wagner and Strauss also all described variations on entering trance-like states through music. Beethoven told an interviewer that music is the one incorporated entrance into the higher worlds of knowledge which comprehends mankind, but which mankind cannot comprehend. Sufis believe that music helps to free the physical effort from conscious thought, since both mind and will must be suspended if ecstasy is to be attained. This is where the concept of the whirling dervish comes from. The mystical teachings of Hazrat Inayat Khan state, Some would say the same description could easily be applied to music made by the Dirty Three. Drums and chants are used by old Sufi masters to lead devotees towards this music-associated trance state where they describe losing all sense of this reality and leaving their bodies. Dervishes are able to inflict severe injuries upon themselves, supposedly without pain or bleeding, then heal the wounds within seconds without leaving a scar. Joe Nicol, a senior research fellow for the Committee for Skeptical Inquiry, an organisation that promotes scientific and critical investigation of paranormal and other extraordinary claims, says that he's investigated claims of ghosts, haunted houses, vampires, werewolves, exorcisms, sea monsters and other unusual psychic phenomenon for over 40 years now and has still never found a paranormal justification. According to Nicholl, it's possible that seeing a ghost or experiencing waking dreams might be an illusion produced by the brain when there's a disconnect between mind and body. because a person is tired, or in a state of near reverie or daydream, or performing mindless repetitive tasks. These all make us more susceptible to these visions. Physiological conditions such as sleep paralysis or hypnagogic hallucinations, which are things you might see when you're falling asleep, or hypnopompic hallucinations, which are things that you might see when you're trying to wake up, can also prompt these visions or deeply meditative trance-like states, which are known for producing vivid, meaningful feeling visions, often involving those who have died. It's not hard to imagine that Jim or someone could unintentionally put himself in a kind of trance through intense drumming. That could be an explanation for how he saw his friend The Nagoma Voodoo Healers in Tanzania Use music to manifest spirits. Drums and rhythmic percussion, particularly played by the ones seeking to enter the trance state, are at the heart of shamanic practices across the world, from Korea to Venezuela, Siberia to the Celtics, where the rituals involve losing oneself and connecting with spirits through the paranormal power of music. Watching Jim play drums as an audience member has sometimes put me in a kind of otherworldly trance-like state, and I know I'm not alone in that. I've also experienced kind of transformative states while performing my own music on stage, where I feel like I'm both there and not there. my playing and singing become effortless. I'm literally lost in music, like I'm in a waking dream with no beginning or end. I've written songs that mentally conjure up a person who's died. I can sometimes feel the warmth or the presence of that person there with me as I perform the song. I've never experienced seeing them on stage, but the sensation of feeling them there with me is an odd, nice, briefly mystical kind of feeling. The stage can be its own world. Jim's experiences of seeing his friend appear in front of him on stage, other strange connections to her continued to evolve in his life, like other women with the same name as her and sometimes linked with her in other ways that kept turning up and becoming important people in his life. It felt like a slightly uncanny thread.

Jim White: 17:39

So I wrote this thing, I wrote it yesterday. I've got this record coming out, and the first song is called That. Names make the names. Names make the name. And so they asked me to write something about it, so I wrote that. That's what it's about.

Lo Carmen: 17:57

Wow, that's beautiful.

Jim White: 17:59

But I didn't put the part about the... I left out the part about her coming on the stage.

Lo Carmen: 18:04

You should put that in, because that's...

Jim White: 18:06

That takes it into the...

Lo Carmen: 18:07

You feel like it's too... that people will think you're...crazy

Jim White: 18:13

you know, the main reason I'm writing it is because I want to make, when I do press for the record, I want the conversation to be more interesting than, like, where did you record?

Lo Carmen: 18:22

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Jim White: 18:24

You know, so I can always leave it. I can always add it in then.

Lo Carmen: 18:27

Have you had...

Jim White: 18:28

Isn't that weird, though?

Lo Carmen: 18:29

It's really weird.

Jim White: 18:30

And then you said, do you want to dothisthing...

Lo Carmen: 18:31

Yeah. But, I mean, like what we were saying before about how everything's kind of... connected in weird ways that we can't quite understand

Jim White: 18:39

it's not that weird , not that i'm not that okay i'm not that comfortable with i don't know if i agree with that like the weird ways we can't just like i mean i'm saying yes i don't understand it but the brain is for making patterns you know so there's patterns you know so this record's kind of this record's called like all hits memories and because it's like you know it's like why do you remember one thing and not the other thing because it's a hit so a hit on the brain somehow it wasn't a hit it wouldn't be a memory and if it wasn't memory it wouldn't

Lo Carmen: 19:11

That's quite weird because i just learned about that - that's how you make memories - to be a memory it has to make quite an impression it's like you take a kind of 360 snapshot you need like a to make a memory you know maybe a sound oh that's kind of a combination of of things i think that's right and

Jim White: 19:29

Also every time you remember it you take it out and then you put it back in again, s it changes.

Lo Carmen: 19:35

Yes, and you actually take away a little bit.

Jim White: 19:38

I don't have any like spiritual or religious framework at all, you know. So, you know, the brain is like a pattern recognition machine, you know what I mean? I don't know why we remember that but not that, you know. Anyway, so yeah.

Lo Carmen: 19:51

So is it a solo drum record or do you play other things as well?

Jim White: 19:55

Yeah, it's got keyboards on as well, which I play. Not that I can play them, but I can. I just did the drums, I wanted the drums to have, I just wanted to have like a friend. A friend?

Lo Carmen: 20:14

You were worried about your drums being lonely.

Jim White: 20:17

I wanted the drums to have a note or something, you know, and then I did the note, but then, you know, it was too much fun, so I did a couple, did a few notes.

Lo Carmen: 20:23

Yeah, that sounds great.

Jim White: 20:24

Yeah.

Lo Carmen: 20:27

Jim and I both emerged at different times from a kind of underground Australian music scene. where a rather heartbreaking number of its pioneers and supporters are no longer with us. I could easily name 20 friends and musical peers and heroes that we both knew and loved that have died via illness, accident or misadventure. And I have no doubt Jim has a bunch of other friends from his travels around the world that have died too young also. Now I'm not sure if music people seem to die at a higher rate than other professions. But sometimes it feels like it. The first death I ever experienced was my musician dad's best friend, Bon Scott, who you may know from ACDC, but my dad and Bon made a different kind of countrified rock and roll together. I still remember answering the phone as a little kid and it was our friend in London informing us that he'd died before it hit the news. We got a message to my dad who was performing in a piano bar in the Northern Territory when the news came in and he was too upset to keep playing. Peter says the whole bar followed by the whole town. joined him in sorrow, and they all headed down to the riverbed and had a wild wake lying around in the creek. A fairly fitting, impromptu send-off. Bon's death hit the Adelaide rock and roll community very hard. He was everybody's friend, beloved, and I think probably one of the very first people in that friend group to die. It also hit me really hard, even though I was only nine or ten years old, because Bon was very funny and lovely and had told me that he'd seen our dog Harry's ghost in the driveway and that Harry looked really happy, which made me really happy. I tried to have a séance with my friends next door to communicate with him, but it didn't work. And my mum let me stay home from school for... What seemed like a couple of weeks but was probably a couple of days. Anyway, we all still miss him, along with the rest of the world. I don't have a whole lot of photos from the 1990s, but I've brought along a picture to show Jim of a group of us from then, where two of our friends in the photo have since died.

Lo Carmen: 23:44

Zanzibar.

Jim White: 23:45

Oh, Zanzibar.

Lo Carmen: 23:46

Yeah.

Jim White: 23:47

Damien.

Lo Carmen: 23:47

Damien.

Jim White: 23:48

You.

Lo Carmen: 23:49

And me and Wazza.

Jim White: 23:50

James. That's you, right?

Jim White: 23:52

Oh, Warren. Look at Warren.

Lo Carmen: 23:53

I know. He has no beard.

Jim White: 23:55

James.

Lo Carmen: 23:56

Angela. That was James' girlfriend. Mick Turner. And Monica.

Jim White: 24:01

Oh, look at Monica. Yeah. Where am I?

Lo Carmen: 24:04

Maybe you took the picture!

Jim White: 24:05

We used to always go there after the show, didn't we?

Lo Carmen: 24:07

Yeah. I used to do gigs there every Tuesday night.

Jim White: 24:10

That was that one on the little side street?

Lo Carmen: 24:12

Yeah.

Jim White: 24:12

In the King's Cross?

Lo Carmen: 24:13

Yeah.

Jim White: 24:14

It was that awful time in Melbourne when there were so many people dying around that when we were in our 30s, I guess.

Lo Carmen: 24:20

Yeah, it did feel like a period where there were lots of people dying. Yeah, Norm.

Jim White: 24:25

Andrew Entsch.

Lo Carmen: 24:25

I don't know if it's musicians... if musicians seem to have more friends that die...

Jim White: 24:36

I feel like people I know... I...

Lo Carmen: 24:38

I feel like I've got so many dead friends.

Jim White: 24:39

I feel like when they... If I get to know someone and then, like, you know, over time, just in passing you say, oh, blah, blah, blah, and then they're dead or whatever, I feel like a friend of mine a few years ago was like, what are you talking about? Like, how can you know so many dead people, you know? But, I mean, I guess... It's a pretty social life, being a musician, so to know a lot of

Lo Carmen: 25:02

Yes, that's true.

Jim White: 25:04

From what I've seen, it seems like a high mortality, you know,

Lo Carmen: 25:11

Yeah. I guess there's a lot of people that have, you know, lived pretty hard, et cetera. When you lose friends, do you sometimes want to listen to a song after you've heard that they've died that will bring them back to you in a song?

Jim White: 25:26

No.

Lo Carmen: 25:26

No. So what's...

Jim White: 25:30

Like what do you mean? What do youdo?

Lo Carmen: 25:32

y d What do I do?

Jim White: 25:33

Yeah,

Lo Carmen: 25:33

I would probably listen to a song, like if there's a song that's connected with that person. But like what you were saying before about how as musicians you tend to have a really, you know, a wide community of people that you know, maybe a wider community than a lot of people because you travel

Jim White: 25:53

You and me are pretty sociable.

Lo Carmen: 25:55

Pretty sociable. I don't really get upset now when I hear that somebody's died. I just kind of go, I'll see them on the other side if there's such a thing.

Jim White: 26:06

You don't feel upset anymore?

Lo Carmen: 26:07

No. I don't.Idon't feel like there's much difference between them being dead or alive.

Jim White: 26:14

Yeah, that's really...

Lo Carmen: 26:15

I don't know what to make of that, but that is how I feel.

Jim White: 26:21

Yeah. I mean, do you remember how... Do you remember how I used to tear you apart?

Lo Carmen: 26:25

Yeah, I do.

Jim White: 26:26

Yeah. Like you'd hear of someone that you didn't even know that well dying and it would... Sometimes it would just get you, right? ...plunge you into a terrible depression and... Yes, I used to get so upset. ...so shocking. But, you know, I've been trying... I've got this thing, like this metaphor that I only find people like where I'm like, you know, when you drop your phone, it's going to smash on the ground, right? I try to be over it by the time it's about there. You know, it's like it's about... six inches out of your hand. If you can't catch it, and I try to be over it, it's like, whatever, you know, it's smashed. Yeah. You know, I don't know if it is smashed or not, you know. I don't know, I'm not saying dead people are the same as my phone...

Lo Carmen: 27:03

But maybe it's an ability to understand that the world doesn't end as you get older.

Jim White: 27:09

But also that, you know, you getting all torn up about it does not help you or them or anyone. No. And the kind of...

Lo Carmen: 27:17

I don't think getting torn up about anything helps anything.

Jim White: 27:20

As we older, like, you know, the time's more limited.

Lo Carmen: 27:22

Yes, y this is a weird question, but do you keep all your dead friends in your phone?

Jim White: 27:29

I certainly don't delete them.

Lo Carmen: 27:31

No. I just often find, like I'm going through to find something in a hurry and I suddenly go, jeez, so many dead friends in my phone.

Jim White: 27:40

What about Shane? Was Shane in there?

Lo Carmen: 27:42

Yeah, Shane would be in my phone. Messages. I miss Shane too. He was such a cheeky bugger. ... As I grow older, I feel like I'm able to process death and dying in a more philosophical way perhaps than when I was younger. I'm more understanding that death is a part of life and that none of us have promised any particular length of time to exist. So although it feels really hard to bear and unfair when someone we love dies unexpectedly or younger than we'd hope, the outcome was always going to be the same. The circle of life is real. I'm just getting to that age where I have a lot of dead friends and I've found my own ways to keep them alive in my heart. I was still ruminating over this when our friend Ray came over. He's in his mid-60s, so he's got a little bit more experience in losing people, and I asked him how he deals with it.

Ray Argall: 28:44

It's organic in the way those things evolve and happen. I was thinking earlier, like, if I think of my grandmother, or I think of Anna Kanata, the person we absolutely adored. Esben Storm, Sarah Watt, people that I've known quite well. You know, that's what I mean. There's times when they're just right there. That's what I say. I can nearly touch them. You know, I can see them. I can feel them. I can hear them. You can miss people, but you wish you could have a conversation with them, but you're not sad about it because you know that there's a part of you that's not a practical reality. Yeah. That's not going to happen.

Lo Carmen: 29:23

Life and death is just death.

Ray Argall: 29:25

Thank goodness that they are there in a way, you know.

Lo Carmen: 29:28

You just enjoy the fact that they existed and what they brought to your life.

Ray Argall: 29:33

But when you're thinking of that person, that's not all you're thinking of. In actual fact, you're... You know, the memories or those feelings that come back are often completely unique. You're not consciously trying to bring that up, that era of that person. And sometimes it's past, but it's... You know, you can remember things they've said or their laugh or whatever. And it's sort of relative to where you're at at that time. Because if you can't remember, if you've sort of forgotten, if you're looking at a photo and... That's all there is. That's, you know, the photos help remind you. And yeah, because we have so much video and film and I think it's a real comfort because you haven't lost them completely.

Jim White: 30:47

My dad just died this year and he got cremated.

Lo Carmen: 30:53

Is that what he wanted? Did you discuss it with him?

Jim White: 30:56

Yeah, that's what he wanted. Certainly sometime in my life, in my sister's life, he used to, you know, they used to talk about that, our parents. There was a piece of paper that said, you know, you know, resuscitate and stuff like that about quality of life. There was some confusion because he had dementia. He said some contradictory things about where he wanted to end up, but we kind of... Actually, he's just on the shelf right now.

Lo Carmen: 31:19

What's he in? I

Jim White: 31:20

I don't know. My sister showed it the other day, but it had a cover over it. I didn't even look under.

Lo Carmen: 31:24

So like a nice urn or box or something?

Jim White: 31:27

Yeah. It was pretty big.

Lo Carmen: 31:28

Yeah, it's surprising.

Jim White: 31:30

Two foot by one foot or something.

Lo Carmen: 31:31

And do you have any plans?

Jim White: 31:32

She said it was quite heavy when she was carrying it. I forgot to touch it. But he had a... He had something about, you know, quality of life, the resuscitation and stuff. You know, he mentioned that it said on it that he wanted music played. There was actually part of the form that said, you know, like about is he dying, I guess. I can't remember exactly what it said, but, you know, he wrote classical music and Bob Dylan. So I was actually, you know, when he went into this decline, the final decline, I was... interstate and and my sisters were like my time to come down if you're going to do it i was on tour playing music so you know we got up in the middle of night and we drove you know the people i was working with driving to the airport and got the plane and then got rented a car and drove up to the country and you know they were like yeah he's he's a fine you know he's stable don't don't speed or anything and then when i got to the hospital i texted my sister and she's like oh yeah you know I'll come and get you because it's kind of hard to find I went to the car park and she came to the car park we were just chatting away there was no pressure there was no pressure or anything and then my other sister texted and said come now so we went there and he'd been told that I was coming and I guess he'd also heard that I was there and she'd come out to get me from the car park and anyway his breathing had changed and something was going into I mean I sort of imagined it was like you know when you're busting down the toilet but you get really close you know and then you're like really busting maybe yeah um so you know so i got there and he was and he was

Lo Carmen: 33:11

it was like he'd been waiting for you

Jim White: 33:13

He'd been waiting you know yeah because I was, his three kids, he was waiting for the, i was the final one and i got there you know and then the nurse came in and said you know do you want to give him morphine or something now whatever and we're like no i just got here you know like because that tip like that will knock him out yeah she goes yeah probably like take him out you know so no no no no Let's hang out, you know. So, you know, and he was, he couldn't really talk because there was some stuff that was going on in his mouth. It was all kind of, had some dried up sort of stuff in it. But he could talk a little bit. It was sort of croaky, but, you know, I'm really not sure. But it was really nice. Yeah. We just hung out. And my sister, my older sister, she had some music on and classical music. and we're hanging out. After being there about like 20 minutes or something, you know, my oldest sister put on, she put on Bob Dylan, like she went, and she put on like 'Sad Eyed Ladies of the Lowlands'. And you know, the whole room just changed and it's like, and my little sister, ran into the bathroom for privacy and then if something was going on, I'd come back, you know. And then, the whole, and then, honestly, it was about like three, not even three, you know, it's a long song. So hardly, just a couple, two or three minutes in and he went...

Lo Carmen: 34:51

Oh my god

Jim White: 34:52

Yeah. And, um,

Lo Carmen: 34:54

That's incredible.

Jim White: 34:55

It was beautiful. You know, it was beautiful. And he used to play, like, you know, and Anna, she just put it on. She didn't say, hey, I'm thinking about putting this on. She just put it on, you

Lo Carmen: 35:02

Yeah.

Jim White: 35:03

And...

Lo Carmen: 35:03

She was just in tune.

Jim White: 35:06

Yeah. And then it took him out. And then he had the... It was like, oh, he's gone, you know. But then he had the little thing with oxygen going in the nostril, so... Because he was trying to see if he was, you know, you see. Yeah, if he was gone. But, you know, we i just hung out with him. you know, realised he definitely was gone. And, you know, everyone says, like, that it's once the spirit leaves or whatever it is, you know. But it wasn't like that at all. It was just like Dad.

Lo Carmen: 35:36

He didn't look any different.

Jim White: 35:38

We just hung out. Like, you know, still just touching him and kissing him and patting him and stuff. And then, you know, the woman came in, the nurse came in and said, yeah, and then left again, just left us there. It was like, you know, it was like in the late afternoon in this country town, country hospital. It still felt like him. I took photos. I took a bunch of photos.

Lo Carmen: 35:59

Really? And

Jim White: 35:59

when I look at him, he looks like...

Lo Carmen: 36:02

It still looks like him or it looks like he's dead?

Jim White: 36:05

It kind of looks more like someone else, you know, like when we were there with him, it was like it was him, but the photos don't really, they don't reflect it.

Lo Carmen: 36:11

That's so wonderful that you got to do that.

Jim White: 36:14

Oh, it was amazing. I felt, I mean, I felt really loved that he waited, you know, that was so nice.

Lo Carmen: 36:20

Yeah.

Jim White: 36:21

It was so kind. I thought that was so generous, you know.

Lo Carmen: 36:23

That is incrediblygenerous.

Jim White: 36:25

He also, he had dementia, but it was like in that period, also talking to my sisters who'd been with him a few days before as well, I saw it then. I saw it like he transcended his dementia, which I later on talked to someone who knows, who went through a lot of stuff with dementia and dementia health groups and everything. She's like that. Oh, that. She goes, oh, that happens, you know.

Lo Carmen: 36:46

I've read about that,too

Jim White: 36:48

t Because he just seemed totally there. He just suddenly got over it. He was there. You know, we spent a lot of time with him with the dementia, and I'd seen him just the week before, too, before he fell. He was doing a lot of things in his mind, you know. There was a lot of stuff going on, work things, and then he was a university professor guy, and there was stuff going on in whatever world he was in, you know. Yeah, it was like back in time. And maybe also some stuff in the facility that he was in. It was hard to know sometimes, but... I also spent time with him earlier when he had dementia, a couple of years earlier when he was at home in the country. I went up there and stayed for a couple of months in the early pandemic period to help his partner hang out with him or whatever you want to call it. So I would drive him around a lot. And he did talk about it one time. He said, like, he goes, I'm forgetting. I'm just forgetting things, you know. And I'm like, well, you're really old. He said to me what his age was and he had it wrong and I'm like, no, you're this and he goes, how do you know that? And I said, well, you were born then. And he goes, ah. And he started laughing. And Ih said, don't worry, you're old, your memory's not as good, not what it was, you know. And he started laughing his head off and he goes, well, that's old. So, you know, he wasn't,

Lo Carmen: 37:56

Right. He wasn't in a bad place. H

Jim White: 37:59

He wasn't. He was probably slightly less bad mood than he was before he had dementia. And he wasn't in a bad mood then either. Yeah.

Lo Carmen: 38:07

Yeah. I've met your dad. He was so gorgeous.

Jim White: 38:10

Oh,right. Yeah. Yeah. He maintained his charm. You know, he was 90 when he went.

Lo Carmen: 38:16

Wow. Well, that sounds like a really beautiful death.

Jim White: 38:19

Yeah. It was beautiful. Everyone's like, you know, oh, my God, I'm so sorry. I'm like, actually, it was pretty fantastic.

Lo Carmen: 38:25

I think it's more than all right to acknowledge that a death is beautiful and good if somebody gets to have a decent long life and gets to die with their family and with some music they love.

Jim White: 38:39

I didn't know it was such a big deal to be with someone when they died. I'd never been with anyone when they died and I didn't know that was a thing. I definitely thought it seemed amazing, but I didn't know that it was... I told my friends, I go, that's so amazing, you should try and be... You know, from my experience, I would really recommend trying to be there. It's like, if I wouldn't have made it in time or just not been there, been away somewhere or something, it would have been a very different experience, the unknown. You know, it was like, it was kind of beautiful. He just did a couple of, like, two short breaths and he was gone. Like two gulps or something, you know, two ones that were different. And then he was gone. It's like so peaceful.

Lo Carmen: 39:18

Wow.

Jim White: 39:18

I know that's not, I know that's not everyone's experience, you

Lo Carmen: 39:21

No. But... That sounds like a...

Jim White: 39:25

That's like one of those things that you hear about a good death or whatever.

Lo Carmen: 39:28

Yeah. I mean, that's exactly the kind of death I would like.

Jim White: 39:32

Yeah.

Lo Carmen: 39:32

If I get a choice.

Jim White: 39:33

Yeah.

Lo Carmen: 39:34

Bob Dylan, my three children.

Jim White: 39:36

Yeah.

Lo Carmen: 39:37

Bring it on.

Jim White: 39:38

Yeah. What are the chances?

Lo Carmen: 39:39

Hopefully good! Some birds singing.

Jim White: 39:44

Yeah.

Lo Carmen: 39:45

Yeah. In abed.

Jim White: 39:46

Yeah. Comfortable. That's the other thing. I mean, he must have been in pain. But he kind of transcended it. He didn't show it and he didn't, apparently for the days before that he'd been fine. But he just did not seem, yeah. I think his mind, I think he transcended it all. I think his mind, you know, he had a good mind and then I guess in the dementia it came back and helped him.

Lo Carmen: 40:06

Yeah.

Jim White: 40:07

Whatever, but it was nice.

Lo Carmen: 40:08

Do you have any kind of philosophical or spiritual ideas about where he is? Like, is he just gone, or do you feel like he's in the cosmos somewhere, or in heaven or hell?

Jim White: 40:19

No, I don't normally have any theories about that kind of thing, and definitely no sort of those literal things that people talk about. Although, do you know this singer, Mary Margaret O'Hara?

Lo Carmen: 40:29

Yeah.

Jim White: 40:30

She's a pretty good mate of mine and she's like, you know, Jimmy, your dad died. Like, you know, I told her or something. I don't know when it came up. She's like, did you see him? Did you see him after? I go, what are you talking about? Because the weird thing was I did see him outside the corner. You know, I don't really believe in that, you know, but I saw him out the corner of my eye through the window at the table, you know, just for a second. It was like maybe the day after or something that he died. My sisters and I, we went back to his place and we were hanging out there. And I went back, I think I went back to work, you know, to travel after a couple of days. But, like, they hung out. And every time I rang them up, they just kept staying there. And even the day or two that I stayed there, like, I wish I could have kept staying there. It was so nice hanging out in his house with my sisters.

Lo Carmen: 41:12

With his stuff.

Jim White: 41:13

With his stuff and the kind of, you know, the world was sort of outside. It was a really right. It felt like important, you know. I think we would have stayed longer. But, you know, Mary started telling me, you should call it off and do it. She's close with death. She knows about death. She's got so much about it. You know, and she was like, I'll just say this one little bit of one story because she's got a lot of stories, but I'm sure she'll talk to you. But she was like, yeah, you know, when my dad died, I was there at the hospital and then I went back to where I was staying and I just was lying in bed and I just felt his body just go right through me. And then they rang me up and they told me he was dead, you know. And, you know, those stories that you hear, she feels that kind of thing. You know, whatever. But yeah, and yes, I'm happy to say, I'm quite comfortable to say I don't believe in that stuff. And I'm also very

Lo Carmen: 41:59

happy... Happy to say that you've had some strange experiences.

Jim White: 42:02

Yeah, and that when someone tells me a story like that, I believe them. Same. You know, I don't, but...

Lo Carmen: 42:07

I haven't had any experiences like that myself, but I've heard some other stories and I totally believe them.

Jim White: 42:13

Yes, I believe them, but I'm also happy to say that I believe in that stuff, you know, and I don't really find a problem... It doesn't make any sense, what I'm saying, logically. But, you know, it's good enough for me.

Lo Carmen: 42:27

I think I have a similar kind of belief structure. Jim's dad is not the only person I've heard about that has died while listening to music that they love or music that they've pre-chosen to die to. It's a surprisingly common phenomenon and the idea of it brings me a lot of comfort. A dear music-loving friend of mine, Mick, died many years ago, and I was told he was listening to It's a Wonderful World as he went, which just seems like the perfect song to see you out the door, if you know what I mean. Another friend of mine, Danny, who was larger than life and a fabulous performer, requested his friends put Vivaldi's Four Seasons on and died just as it finished. How magnificent and dramatically beautiful is that?

Lo Carmen: 43:18

Reddit, my favourite place on the internet, is awash with mysterious tales of connections between certain songs and a person who has died, and that song spookily appearing out of nowhere or coming on in a surprising, unexpected fashion at a pertinent time. things that don't really seem to make logical sense but that feel very meaningful to the person that's experiencing this intimate connection with the music and the one they loved. Here's my former school teacher Jane who was actually the very first person that I went to for an interview. I'll be sharing more of her story in another episode but Here she'd just been telling me how her husband had been spending a lot of time curating a playlist of music that he loved, and she later realised all of the songs seemed to reference death.

Jane Skinner: 44:16

It's very difficult to listen to.

Lo Carmen: 44:19

Is it a dark playlist?

Jane Skinner: 44:20

Well, no, it's great music. I'll show you what's on it. But it's kind of bizarre that he did it like he knew somehow without knowing. That's what I thought.

Lo Carmen: 44:33

Right.

Jane Skinner: 44:34

I had a feeling that he knew somehow. And I don't know whether he actually knew or whether he just had a feeling that he was sick. But it was very strange that he made this particular thing. It's spooky when you look at all the things on this playlist. And the last track on it is Take Me to Church, which we were listening to when he died.

Lo Carmen: 44:57

Seriously?

Jane Skinner: 44:59

Yeah.

Lo Carmen: 45:03

I can't imagine how emotional that was to experience. And here's an old family friend, Andrew, telling me about the death of his brother after a long illness. All the family had gathered together in the hospital room. The tight group of brothers all had a very strong connection to each other through music, through sharing music, loving music, talking about it, joking about it. His brother had already planned his funeral playlist with Andrew and one of his favourite songs was 'Gimme Shelter'

Andrew Galpin: 45:43

So, you know, we all knew that, oh, David's gone to hospital, right, OK, this is big. You know, the doctor said, you should come in now. And the weird thing for me with that is... When I've had that happen in the past, and I've thought about it and thought, what's this mad rush to the hospital to go and see them? Is it for me, you know, to say my goodbyes and things like that? And, oh, no, I now get it.

Lo Carmen: 46:11

What do you think? Why?

Andrew Galpin: 46:12

We were there to help him, to go with him, you know. To let him know that it was all right. To be right by his side, yep. Yep, so.

Lo Carmen: 46:21

Yeah.

Andrew Galpin: 46:21

It was, yeah.

Lo Carmen: 46:23

Let him feel that you were letting him go.

Andrew Galpin: 46:27

Well, it was, yeah, a job to do too, you know, to be there and stand alongside him, you know. We were just in a hospital room and we were just chatting away, you know. It's just it wasn't a big deal. It wasn't, you know, David was there. We were there. And it was all, you know, how are you doing? What are you doing nowadays? You know, a bit of that and that. And I thought, I'll just put some music on my iPhone. And I thought, well, I'll just play some Rolling Stones. And, you know, I hardly ever listen to them, really. But, yeah, so I just started playing some songs. And I sent it in the hand basin there so I would, you know, give it some amplification. And, you know, we're just chatting. Tim's saying, oh, I don't, like, miss you. It's just too disco. And, oh, you know, it's taking the piss, Tim. You know, we're just having a laugh about it all. And then... We just noticed there was some movement and mum had got up and she was right by him holding his hand and Karen and Stacey were on the other side and we've gone, oh, right, okay, oh, shit, we're here, this is it. And I thought, I think I'll just pull that music right down for the moment and just let's get a feel for what's going on. And so I just hid it in my pocket and then I just turned it right down. And then I thought... I might put that back on. And I just pulled it out of my pocket and looked and went like two clicks down and hit give me shelter. Just started it up. Quietly. And I thought, I'll just see if mum or, you know, if mum might turn around. Couldn't you turn that off or, you know, something. And no one did. And so I just kept tuning the volume up and set it back in the sink. And, yeah.

Lo Carmen: 48:13

Yeah.

Andrew Galpin: 48:13

And he went listening to his favourite music. And the music, the lyrics aside, and David wouldn't have paid much attention to the lyrics, it was the music side that he would have loved about it. And it's just got that drifting, floating, you know, carry away kind of feel to it. Yeah, like a bridge. Yeah, yeah.

Lo Carmen: 48:40

A musical bridge.

Andrew Galpin: 48:40

To Valhalla.

Lo Carmen: 48:42

Yeah. Turns out death is a pretty great conversation starter. We tend to learn really illuminating, intimate things about each other when we have these conversations. I wasn't surprised to find that perhaps a place where Jim and I meet, apart from on the musical plane, is in a kind of place of acceptance of the world as it is. and an understanding that the world might be full of things that we can't control, or sometimes even explain. But the beat goes on, and that's alright. I'd like to share a selection of words from the liner notes that the artist Bill Callahan wrote for Jim's new solo album, All Hits, Memories, on Drag City Records. I'll leave a link to it in the show notes and on my sub stack. And you can also keep up with Jim at jimwhitedrums.com.

Lo Carmen: 50:28

Before humans, drums were playing. These drums. Genesis was a solo drum piece. After humans, these drums. This album. Someone, the last man, is out in a spaceship at the end of space. He plays a single chord on a synth. To set time free from its bind. And then let's go. This album sets time free. A deft surgical operation. Let's it fall in, let's it graze, let's it remember. This is a record of thoughts, memories, surgery. A deft surgical operation. You may not even realize it's happening as it's happening. Put your back on your feet when it's over. Memories refreshed.

Jim White: 51:17

What's that about?

Lo Carmen: 51:18

a I don't know, Jim. The world is weird.

Jim White: 51:21

The world's weird. Do you want to hear the song offtherecord? t

Lo Carmen: 51:25

r Yeah.

Jim White: 51:25

I'll play you that one

Lo Carmen: 51:32

Wow. Thank you to Jim White for going deep with me on this episode. And thank you to Jim and Drag City Records for permission to use selections from Jim's album. All Hits Memories, now available everywhere. This conversation was recorded before his solo album was released, but due to various reasons beyond my control, it's taken a while to get out into the world to you. Heartfelt thanks also to Jane Skinner, Andrew Galpin and Ray Argyle for talking with me and for sharing their stories. Death Is Not The End was created, written, recorded and edited by me, your host, Lo Carmen, with additional sound design and editing by Aidan Young. The Death Is Not The End theme music is written, performed and recorded by Peter Head. He also recorded versions of Take Me To Church and It's A Wonderful World for this episode. Thank you so much to the estate of Rachel Cootes for permission to use her composition, I Am Dreaming of You. The live excerpt of Sue's Last Ride by The Dirty Three was from a concert that I recorded at Beck's Festival Bar in Sydney, Australia, 2004. You can find my song Gulwar Blue on the 2009 album It Walks Like Love. Thank you very much to Emma Swift and Tiny Ghost Records for permission to use her version of Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands, originally recorded, of course, by Bob Dylan. It's from her album Blonde on the Tracks. You're going to want to get on that. Thank you to Jimmy Dillon and his band for permission to use their live in Hawaii version of Gimme Shelter, originally recorded, of course, by the Rolling Stones. Thanks to Peter Head, also for permission to use his recordings of Bon Scott singing his songs, Kerrigully and Round and Round. extra incidental music thanks to the Moby Gratis Descript and MuseOpen music libraries. The repertoire on this podcast was licensed by APRA AMCOS. If you'd like to talk about anything you've heard on this episode today or you've had stories that you'd like to share, I'd love to hear from you at lowcarmen.sobstack.com. You can come find me there. You can also rate, review, follow and all of that at any of your podcast providers and I would surely appreciate that. You've been listening to Death Is Not The End, a Black Tambourine Productions production. Thank you for being here and see you on the other side.